


Playing with Fire

by Sarie_Fairy



Series: Fictober 2020 [17]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Consensual Sex, Dom Mulder, F/M, First Time, Hurt, MSR, Post- Episode: s01e12 Fire, Smut, Spanking, Talk of Pheobe Green
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27042481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy
Summary: FICTOBER Day 18 - Prompt: “you better leave now”Post Fire - Scully helps Mulder exorcise some demons.tw: Mulder pushes Scully against a wall, but backs off quickly, dom/sub sex is consensual.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Fictober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951573
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This was written from a tumblr ask - Hi hi!!! I’ve been told you take smut prompts. Would you consider writing something about mulder being assertive and dominant in bed early in msr?

Phoebe had left the country and her mark. Scully feared it might be indelible; had never seen Mulder that way. Though she hadn’t known him very long, the time they had spent with one another had been intense. Scully had witnessed him handle himself in all manner of situations, but this woman had done a number on him the likes of which she had not seen. 

Wanting to make sure he was okay, Scully drove him home. When she pulled up, he still seemed a little off, so she walked him inside. Whatever was going on with him could have been attached to his fear of fire, however, Scully suspected it was more due to whatever the fuck trauma was leftover from that woman. 

Once at his apartment door, his passivity seemed to shift to irritation; he must have had enough of her questions in the car.

“Scully. I said I’m okay,” he told her, shrugging her off and pushing ahead of her through his door. “Just some demons I need to exorcise.” 

Detecting a crack in his voice, she watched as he began to crumble in on himself, literally to the ground. She caught him as his back slid down the wall, crouching in front of him between his knees. He held tight, nothing escaping—no sound or breath—muscles tensing under her fervent touch as he continued to grow smaller. 

“She had such on hold on me,” finally emerged from somewhere in the ball of Mulder, curled up against the wall, forearms protectively over his head. 

Then he began to crack, weep and then sob.

Scully rubbed his shoulders. “Talk to me,” she implored, “please. I’ve never seen you like this, Mulder.” Pulling at his wrists, she tried to pry her way inside.

He steadied his breath, Scully smoothing his brow. 

“She used to—” 

Scully heard Mulder swallow, watched as he fought for the words.

“Tell me,” she appealed, over him, surrounding him, coaxing him, stroking his hair.

“She used to” he began again, “—make me beg,” he managed.

His breathing was heavy, hard and fast. Increasing, and she murmured, “it’s okay, I’m here.”

“… she took any confidence… I had no dignity, no …” he choked over the last words.

“Mulder, shhh,” Scully said, “it’s okay now, you don’t have to let her make you feel that way any longer.”

Then something snapped. Standing abruptly to his full height, he grabbed her hands off him, and spinning them both, he pushed her back against the wall. Holding her birdlike wrists above her head in his grasp, he pinned her. His stomach over hers, the top of his thigh pressed between her legs.

Breath catching in her throat, Scully’s mouth opened. But was not afraid of him, only fleeting alarm jolted through her as fear ran over _his_ features. He roused, shook his head, pulled off her body, like bare feet off hot sand, loosened his hold on her, their faces close, nose to nose as he panted.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, “I’m so sorry,” and he began to disappear again, fold back in on himself, retreating down.

Retrieving a hand from his loose grip, she grabbed one of his, roughly brought it between them, hauling him back up. Staring at him, unwaveringly into his eyes, she flattened his palm against her stomach, fingers pointed down. He glanced at what she was doing as she began to pushed the tips of his fingers into the waistband of her slacks, deftly flicking the button open. Confusion plagued his shadowy features. 

An overwhelming protectiveness had ripped through her body. Anger that someone could do something to this man to make him react in such a way.

“You’re a big strong man, Fox Mulder,” she told him fiercely, “that is _not_ you.” She had a wild look in her eyes, a firm conviction to her voice. “So, take it back—” she said emplored.

His darkened apartment, like a black hole, seemed to swallow the light. Lured her into its dim surrounds like a warm blanket. Closing off the world outside, detaching her from reason and thought. Propelling her to feel, not think. To act on wit and instinct and emotion.

Wanting desperately to return something _she_ had taken from him, Scully continued, searching his face “—take _me._ ”

His brow furrowed, and his eyes raked over her face as she pushed his hand lower into her pants, leaving no question as to her meaning. 

Something dark flashed across the depths of his hazel eyes. Something wild. His grip around her other hand, still above her head, tighten, and he shoved a foot between hers, spreading her legs. Giving him room to press the top of his thigh up into her crotch. He pulsed there, forcing her heels off the floor, all the while their faces close, gazes locked in an intense standoff. Then she went limp, let herself go. Let him hold her. Catching his features, they began to morph—determination and something altogether sexual overcoming him as his lips edged closer to hers. 

Hot breath cut across her cheek and his fingers dipped down further, scraping into her underwear, and she watched him close—biting her lip. 

His face inched closer, and she tasted his breath, sunflower seed salty and sweet. She let go of her bottom lip, and he immediately captured it, sucking it into his mouth. Closing it between his teeth before licking it and pressing his tongue into her mouth. 

Something feral exploded inside, and she surrendered to it, opened for him, gave herself to him, resolving to help him find his way back. Closing her eyes, her jaw opened, his tongue deep in her mouth, lips crushed together. Her head bumped into the wall, pushed back as Mulder shoved his body onto hers.

Gripping the back of her neck with his free hand, he thrust his fingers lower, encountering her trimmed pubic hair. Slid lower still, slippering over her clit, between her swelling lips, and she groaned into his mouth.

“You want this Scully; you want me to _take_ you, dominated you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed.

“You want to _save_ me,” he almost spat.

“No, Mulder,” she began, tried, wanting to take his pain away, not add to his anger, “I want you to save yourself.”

He cut her off, commanding “strip,” letting her go and taking a step back from her.

“What?” she stammered.

“I said, strip.”

Breast swelled over their cups on her heavy breath as she stared at him, caught as she was in his dangerous expression. She had never been more turned on, more alert in her life. Wired with anticipation—nerve endings exposed and buzzing.

He backed up some more, half sat, half leaned against the edge of his kitchen table. Folding his arms across his chest, Scully observed him as he waited for her, dominance beginning to replace the supplicant curled up on the floor before.

Scully, eyes hooded, continuing to watch him watching her as she completed the job of undoing her pants, dragged on the zipper. Her slacks slid down her legs and hit the floor and Mulder grabbed at his crotch, crudely. Groaning. Eyes possessive.

Making quick work of removing her jacket, the sound of blood, beating ferociously from her heart, wooshed through her ears. Her mouth felt dry, her underwear wet. 

Stepping out of her heels and pooled pants, she grabbed the hem of her top and scraped it up her body, over her head, dropping it to the floor. Standing before him, in only a pair of sensible black briefs and a plain skin-tone bra—her breasts heaving beneath with every viscous breath—she felt like she was drowning in trepidation and desire. Gaze locked onto his face, a ravenous look about him, she reached behind her back for the clasp of her bra, but Mulder interrupted—

“No, stop there,” he ordered.

And then he stepped into her space once again. Close, hips skimming her abdomen, and he kissed her again. Pressed his body up against hers as his tongue invaded her mouth, and she felt her knees go weak. There was something so erotic about their power play, her standing there in her underthings, her alabaster skin, luminous by the light of the single bulb in Mulder’s kitchen. Exposed, though blanketed by Mulder’s large, warm clothed body, engulfed in his scent.

He grabbed her by the hand and stepped back, pulling her the few steps over to the table. Swiftly turning her around, he pushed her onto the tabletop, face down. Torso flat across the dark-stained wood, he held her hands, both shackled in one of his fists, over her sacrum. 

Scully heard the sound of his fly undoing, fabric rustling. The sounds of elastic flicking; the waistband of his underwear. Then nothing.

“Tell me you want this Scully, or you’d better leave now.”

She panted, face to the side of his hard table, body on fire, prickling all over. 

“I want it,” she told him in a steady voice, “I want _you_ ,” she confirmed. And she did, she had never wanted someone to fuck her more in her life.

He was quiet behind her, so she continued, “please. Fuck me, Mulder.”

He slapped her then—a sharp smack to the flesh of her arse cheek, and she let out a moan as it revibrated though her. Fingernails grazed her flesh as he grabbed the waistband of her briefs and ripped them down her legs.

“I can smell you, Scully,” he growled on a deep breath, “sometimes in the office, I can.” 

Overcome with arousal, her breath hitched; Mulder stepping outside of that moment in time; he’d thought of her. 

Palm shifting across her skin, over the heat from his handprint, lower until his fingertips reached her valley between her cheeks. Down he ventured, tracing her seam.

“Now I want to taste you.” 

He pushed his fingers inside of her, coating them as she grabbed and clutched him within her walls. He pumping them inside, and then they were gone, followed by the sounds of Mulder sucking them into his mouth, licking, moaning.

Without warning, he was inside of her in one swift movement, and by fuck it hurt. But it was the kind of pain that bound people, a knives edge of pleasure. A hurting that forced you to the surface—made you gasp for air. 

Mercifully he stayed there, deep, hips flush to her arse as she adjusted around him before he started to pull and push in and out of her. 

“Ohhh, mmm,” she voiced, couldn’t help the sounds escaping her and then her head was back, her firey red locks spilling between his fingers, like brightly coloured playdough.

“You like that,” he growled, tugging her hair.

“Oh God, Mulder, yes,” she managed as his thrusts became sharper, faster.

He was huge, she could tell—he felt fucking enormous, and she realised she had never had a man’s cock inside of her, that she hadn’t seen, held in her hands. It stung. It ached, deliciously as he pulsed pleasure into her—dragging in and out, rocking over her G-spot. She wanted to squirm, to fight it but the binds he held her in were exquisite. Powerful. This was the Mulder she knew, in charge. Fighting back. Taking.

He released her; hands and hair, then held steading, the meat of her flank in one hand as he swung in and out of her. He reached under her body with her other, wriggled his fingers between her pussy and the hard wood. There he spread her until her clit was crushed onto the table’s edge. He stopped his maneuvering when she let out a yelp. Retrieving his hand and holding her firming in her new position, grasping her either side, his fingernails leaving sickle shapes in her flesh.

Again, it hurt. A good hurt. A pain, exquisite. 

He shoved into her—out and back in—the hard wooden corner pulsing waves of desire through her body, muscle and bone. Pistoning in and out, his steel cock tore her open as she gripped around him involuntarily. 

Scully seized the edges of the table, and he grabbed higher, her waist, pulling her onto him as his hips slammed onto her cheeks. Loud slapping noises mixed with their grunts and moans of pleasure as he pounded. Her pussy pulsed onto the blunt angle, and she could feel the warm liquid of her desire dripping down, painting the inside of her thighs. Over and again, unrelentingly he pushing her closer to the brink. Again, and again, and again. 

“Oh my God, I’m going to come,” she gasped, at the moment she came undone at the intensity of it all.

Losing control and thought and any last vestige of inhibitions, she screaming and howled as he pumped her through the most intense orgasm of her life. 

“Oh fuck,” Mulder panted, in a tender voice, slowly moving within her, still hard. He rubbed circles onto her back and stroked her hair and caught his breath.

Boneless and still as Mulder withdrew, running his hands over her body, caressing where he had smacked her, and then he flicked open the clasp of her bra. 

Picking her up, he carefully flipped her over, taking her bra as he did, flicking off her briefs, that had all but fallen from her ankles. 

Lying expose before him, on her back, legs spread, still quivering through her comedown, she watched as he palmed his dick, glistening in her arousal. Finally saw him, fully erect, swaggering as he pumped himself in his hand, staring at her amorously with his bottom lip clamped between his teeth. God, there was something so erotic about that image of him, pleasuring himself at the sight of her, spent and sated.

Pulling her to the edge of the table, Mulder slung an ankle over each shoulder. Bending over her, palms on the tabletop, as he kissed again, spreading her further, knees folding, thighs to her shoulders as her cunt opening. 

He kissed her and kissed her; hungrily. Insatiably. Scully whimpering as his lips and tongue lost their way from her mouth down her neck: licking and sucking. Ghosting over her chest, he let go of her leg and grabbing his cock, entered her again. Swollen a slippery below, he pushed in quickly, began lapping at her breasts. Taking a nipple in his mouth, as he began to thrust, hulking over her, suckling and biting. 

Lifting her head, she watched him. Changed. In control. An exuberance, an arrogance missing since they played that cassette tape in his car, Pheobe’s voice invading the cab. 

Sliding in and out of her with ease, he pounded into her. It felt relentless— and Scully never wanted him to stop. Trying to steadying herself, hands explored until they white-knuckled at the edges of the table. Mulder wrapped a hand around her thigh, the other finding her clit and he tenderly began to play. 

Sharing his attention between her breasts, his teeth tugged deliciously on her nipples with each shove into her. Over and again, he rammed his cock into her, kissing her and teased her. Pumping himself inside her of her over and again. And again, and again, and, again, until Scully gently caressed his hair, compelling him to lift his head, to look at her. 

“Let go, Mulder,” she coaxed affectionately. “Please, let go,” she said again.

And he did. They did, together. 

Withdrawing from within her seizing cunt, he strangling his cock within his fist. Came hard and fast, spurting hot cum over her writhing abdomen, as she jolted through her euphoria.

Panting, he continued to tug at himself as he finished dripping over her belly. Collapsing onto her, puffing, his lips found her neck, and he kissed her, spend an age there, nuzzling and pressing gentle kisses to her fevered flesh. She wrapped herself about him, legs, arms, holding him down. Holding him up.

“Will you stay,” he urged, into the soft skin just under her ear, brushing his lips there.

Hesitating a moment, as he peeled himself from her, she acquiesced and told him, “okay. But just until you fall asleep, then I’ll go.” She saw a loss in his expression, so she kissed him again, assuring him, “you’ll be okay.”

Mulder found a hand towel by the sink, doused it in warm water and delicately wiped her clean, before taking her by the hand. Helping her from the table, he lead her to his living room, lay her down on his leather couch. He undressed himself the rest of the way, and settling in beside Scully, naked, covering them both in a blanket. Stroked over her skin, he ran his fingertips up and down her exposed arms, as she ran her hands through his hair.

“Mulder—”

“Mmm,” he mumbled; the side of his face crushed to her warm breast.

“You have the power … okay? Don’t you give it to her again, okay?” 

“Okay Scully,” he vowed groggily and then fell into sleep.

~

Encountering Mulder in the office the following day, he produced an audiotape, from Phoebe. Another of her insidious mind games, no doubt. Scully’s apprehension rose like the bile stirring at the back of her throat. 

But, he just -- threw it away. Threw Phoebe and any hold she’d had on him out too. 

Scully smiled. Exhaled. Whatever had happened the previous evening or would occur in the future, the small part of Scully that had questioned what they had done, dissipated. Even though she hadn’t known him very long, she somehow knew what they had between them was something different, that they didn’t operate the same way as other people did. And that their partnership was going to be intense and exciting. And she was buckling herself in for the ride.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting something new each day in October for Fictober from this tumblr [prompt list](https://fictober-event.tumblr.com/post/628547358001594368/fictober-event-the-prompts-for-2020%22).
> 
> Subscribe to the series [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951573)
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments most welcome 💕


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